The Cajun Brushbuster
This happened in the very first year. It was only Founding Father Tim and myself way back in 1987. We were fishing near the US 96 bridge and found a channel that led way back into thick, thick, brush. We figured that since we were in the aluminum Cajun we could get way back in the brush and catch that big lunker bass and win the tourney. Sadly to say we didn't catch a damned thing. The problem was that we had wound our way back in the brush so far we couldn't turn around and the trolling motor was doing us no damned good at all. The brush was just too thick. We started pulling ourselves along and spent the better part of an hour trying to get to open water. We were both exhausted and the boat finally would go no further. Tim slumped on the bow while I took my seat behind the wheel. He looked up about the time I told him "sit down". He immediately asked " why" to which I replied that I was getting us the hell outa there. He took his seat and I fired up the ole Mariner 40 horse. I eased her down into gear and throttled up. The sound of tortured wood and metal filled the air as we crashed our way through the brush with limbs whipping us about the face and arms. We emerged with all the clatter and commotion of a train wreck from a particularly thick stand of brush within about 50 ft of several other fishermen. I am pretty sure we were quite a sight as we appeared cussing, bleeding, engine screaming, and wood splintering. I doubt they have ever forgotten the incident. I know I haven't.
Tom "Catfish the Younger" Hooper